Chapter 70
Margaux sank onto the cold step of her building’s portal, tilting her head back to gaze at the starless London sky. She let out a breath, the crisp air soothing against her flushed cheeks.
William had taken a few steps toward the street but paused when he noticed her sitting there. He turned back, his brow slightly furrowed.
“You’re not going in?” he asked.
Margaux shrugged, her lips curving into a small, childlike smile. “I’ll wait a bit. Enjoy the cold.”
William seemed to weigh his options for a moment before sighing. “Alright then,” he said, and lowered himself to sit beside her on the step.
They sat in silence, their breaths visible in the chill, the distant hum of the city their only background noise. William pulled his coat tighter against the wind, casting a sidelong glance at Margaux.
“You look like you’re thinking really hard,” he said finally, his tone light.
Margaux glanced at him, then shook her head. “Not really.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So what’s the verdict? Feeling like puking?”
Margaux wrinkled her nose at him. “No.”
“You sure?” he pressed.
“Not for now, at least,” she replied, her tone teasing but tired.
William chuckled softly and leaned back against the railing behind him. “That’s good. I’d hate to ruin this coat.”
Margaux shot him a playful glare. “You’re so considerate.”
"You know me," William shrugged.
"I do," Margaux whispered to herself.
Another moment of silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. William watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting the slight fidget of her hands and the way her gaze seemed fixed on a point far away.
“You know when I said I was okay?” Margaux said suddenly, breaking the quiet.
He turned his head toward her, his expression softening. “Yeah.”
“I lied,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, her words hanging in the cold air between them.
William smirked faintly. “Am I supposed to act surprised?”
Margaux couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. She leaned toward him without thinking, resting her head on his shoulder. “It would’ve been nice.”
William didn’t respond immediately, but she felt him relax beside her, his body adjusting effortlessly to the weight of her against him. His shoulder, firm and unyielding with strength, felt somehow like the softest pillow she’d ever rested on. There was something grounding about it—how solid and steady he was, like leaning against a wall that was warm and alive.
She could feel the faint tension of his muscles beneath the fabric of his coat, a reminder of just how strong he was, and yet, in this moment, he carried her with an ease that made her chest ache in an unfamiliar way. It wasn’t just his strength she felt—it was the quiet reassurance in the way he let her lean into him without hesitation, as though he’d been waiting for her to do it all along.
Margaux closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself sink into the warmth he offered. The cold night seemed farther away now, the world reduced to the comforting press of his shoulder against her cheek. For someone so sharp-edged, so maddeningly composed, he could be disarmingly gentle when he wanted to be. It was disarming, and it made her feel safe in a way she wasn’t sure she deserved.
“Comfortable?” William asked quietly, his voice low and amused.
Margaux hesitated, then nodded, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “Surprisingly, yes.”
“Good,” he murmured, the slightest edge of pride in his tone. “Wouldn’t want you thinking I’m all hard edges.”
“Just mostly,” she replied, her voice teasing but soft.
William chuckled, the sound rumbling gently through his chest, and Margaux found herself relaxing even further, her guard slipping in a way she didn’t quite understand. Somehow, in the quiet of the night, leaning on William felt like the easiest thing in the world.
After a while, William broke the silence, his tone deliberately casual. “So… how’s Adelaine?”
Margaux groaned audibly, pulling back slightly to look at him with exaggerated annoyance. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Maybe because you look ready to explode every time her name comes up,” William suggested, leaning back against the building with a smirk.
“Gee, thanks for the insight,” Margaux said dryly, rolling her eyes.
William chuckled, his laugh low and rumbling. “Seriously, though. What happened?”
Margaux let out a frustrated huff, her breath visible in the cold. “She was such a bitch. She just had to nitpick every single thing. Everything. As though I hadn’t already told her I went to France because I was feeling overwhelmed. And then she still had the nerve to fawn over you like you’re God’s gift to humanity.”
William blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” Margaux said, crossing her arms and leaning back against the step railing. “Apparently, you’re the poster child for everything she’s ever wanted for me.”
His lips curved into a slow, mischievous smile. “Well, she’s not wrong.”
Margaux’s jaw dropped. “I cannot believe you just said that.”
“What?” William said innocently, spreading his hands. “I’m an excellent catch.”
“You’re insufferable,” Margaux muttered, though a faint smile tugged at her lips despite her best efforts.
“And yet, here we are,” William said, leaning slightly closer to her, his blue eyes glinting under the streetlights.
Margaux raised an eyebrow. “What’s your point?”
“You know,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a flutter through her chest, “you never denied it.”
“Denied what?” she asked, wary now.
“That you might actually agree with her,” he said, his tone soft but teasing. “Deep down.”
Margaux’s cheeks flushed as she turned away slightly, feigning indifference. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I?” William countered, his voice low and confident.
Margaux opened her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she let out a frustrated laugh and shook her head, leaning into him again without a word.
William didn’t press further. Instead, he rested his chin lightly against the top of her head, a rare tenderness in his movements.
For once, neither of them had anything else to say, and that was perfectly fine.